Rufus awoke to the sound of a scream.

"What is it? What's wrong?" his tone was terse as the string of his bow, circling his aim the best he could in all directions. He'll be damned if anything touches her.

Alicia flopped down.

"It's nothing, go back to sleep, I'm sorry, good night," she scripted concisely although he didn't quite understand what she said at first. Her voice was quick and weak for someone who was doing nothing.

A sigh and then his shoulders slumped. Rufus laid down again –weapon set by his spot within reach just in case- and rolled on his side to face her shaking back.

"What's wrong?" he asked again, softer than the first time, with eyes searching for hers.

He wasn't that daft. Even though his mind was jolted and still stuck to the webs of slumber, he knew every time the air grew stale between them something was on her mind. Of course, he'd try to help –with a joke or a remark about being together- and he'd steal a smile away from her if he was lucky. At times, she would laugh or join him in his rambles, at one with his staged play of sunlight and happy endings. She would be with him yet slink away again with eyes not quite there, looking outside a window that shouldn't be opened. Part of him was worried that he couldn't bring her back to him. He wanted her to stay.

Her head trembled at his question –or was it a shudder? The heavy mist of twilight began sinking in so she could've been shivering for all he knew. At least he could take her mind off the cold if that was the problem. Tears were another thing though; he wasn't sure if he could do anything then.

"Um…"

She tilted her gaze to his for a moment before whipping away. Was he really that scary to her?

"If you don't mind, would you-"

She hushed herself, checks flamed with embarrassment when she dared to peek at him once more. Her pale hair painted the night when her body turned to finally face him. He waved a hand to encourage her.

"Would you tell me a story? To relax me a bit?"

He thought she was kidding until her eyes locked onto his. Her blue eyes staring deep into him were not unsettling since he wanted to have her attention all on him for once. A smile tugged on his lips at her request. It was too much for him not to jibe a little.

"I don't know any lullabies or folk tales," he teased.

"Not like that!" she injected with a flash of anger in her shaky voice. "I meant, a story about… you."

"Why this all of a sudden?" he asked with a hint of suspicion. She would be too afraid and respectful to try this before.

"I…! That is to say, um, well, I-I-I had-"

"A bad dream?" he finished.

Alicia nodded, her eyes begging and her fingers trembling. The half-elf brewed the idea briefly. This girl -who could easily topple the most vile monsters and demons, spit in the eyes of the Gods with dignity, and choke the very faith of the world- wants to hear a bedtime story because she had a bad dream. And he was the one she turned to. Not her einherjar, not to the stars in the sky, or her childhood tricks to make "the bad things" go away. Him.

Fine, he thought. What harm could she do? He nodded and she started, sunny and light as usual.

"What did you do before you came to Solde?"

"What's there to say? Ran away from those crazy elves, sailed by accident near Villnore, heard news of Dipan, hiked my way there to the liner and met you. Not much of a story if you ask me."

"Well, how about before-"

"I don't remember," he snapped.

She apologized, sinking into silence again. Weeping embers from their campfire crackled and popped for them while they lay. The moon settled herself behind her blanket of clouds and the chill made his way to the two travelers. Alicia's fingers began to quake at his entry. Instinct kicked in as Rufus closed the distance between them to shield her, shy of a few inches away to the princess. He then caught his manners and saw how just close he was to her. He would have been fine but she wouldn't. It shouldn't be this way with them anyways. It couldn't be with Odin still alive.

But then, it wouldn't do to have her freeze to death either. His mind kicked himself when he remembered the lone blanket they bothered to buy, somewhere in one of their pouches. He reached for one nearby and cursed when he fumbled through its contents. She hardly gave it notice, her thoughts consuming her and her eyes looking into another window again. When he found the wool cover, ready to wrap her around it and politely scuttle away, her voice froze him on beat.

"I used to have this dream. It felt so real that I wondered if it was one at all."

"What was it about?"

"This."

Acting as if instructed to, her arms weaved under his and her head laid against his chest. His heartbeat raced in her ears but otherwise they did nothing as she continued.

"I could never see who it was since my eyes couldn't open but I heard them singing. I'd want to lose myself in those arms and never wake up, as if all my worries were scattered just for a moment. Ever since I was little, I would always have this dream when I was lost or scared. But now…"

Oh no, he thought. He knew that waver in her tone. He's not good with misty eyed folks of any gender. But after all that they've been through, he owed her at least a good night's rest. He had to do something to ease her mind.

"Will you sing to me that song in your dream?"

Once she cleared her throat and patted her eyes, Rufus knew who it was that sang in Alicia's dream. It was a song made by the gods for mortals to remember. A lullaby of the world's creation, Migard's birth, and the three goddesses of fate. Her words slurred at times when it reached the more difficult of terms, but the melody was unmistakable.

He heard this song too when he was younger, many years ago. He could still remember, all right, when he was ushered to his own corner, always watching those taller than him smile kindly at him at one moment and then revile his existence as though he were poison. He could still feel their eyes rush through him, their lips curled with aversion before slithering away. His shoulders still stung from being brushed aside from the warmth of others, their shoddy comfort practiced to eerie perfection. Even his archer mentor cast a frightful shade of acceptance to him, afraid that a single graze could bring destruction from Asgard. His distant childhood gripped his throat and dried it cold.

There was a large gap missing in her version, and it was a fairly childish edit once he thought about it. All the parts glorifying Odin were instead splashed with melodic tales of einherjar and other magical notes of history. He smirked when a passage of Dipan's warfare wafted from her lips. That smarmy goddess was defiant even in fairy tales.

He squeezed the girl reassuringly before wrapping the almost forgotten blanket around her. "Don't worry," he whispered in a tone she didn't recognize, "we'll get Silmeria back."

She gave him her brightest smile and thanked him. For what exactly, he wasn't sure but it was enough to see her happy. No more words were needed as the warmth finally sank in and their eyes closed for the morrow. Together they slept, remnant worries melting away with the waking moon.